The Tale of a Magisterium Soldier
by Monica Ronovitch
Summary: A dying soldier of the Magisterium recounts his tale as he bleeds his last, only asking for you to listen, only wanting to tell someone his past...Please Read and Review! I really don't want to end the story where it is I do have a plot.
1. Default Chapter

Here is the story you have all waited for, The Tale of the Magisterium Soldier! Unfortunately, it will be short- I plan for it to be about five chapters long- but I hope that it will encompass the major points I want it to. Read it, and tell me what you think about it, because this tale is very close to my heart, and I'd like to see if it touches others the way it touched mine (my futile attempts at sentimentality seem so comic… oO)

**Disclaimer:**I claim only the characters, and I have attempted to create a setting that is believable in the world I am setting it in (which was created by Phillip Pullman in the His Dark Materials trilogy.)

Part One 

_I wanted to fight; I wanted to be the famous hero of the Church. But when I was a child of twelve, it seemed like nineteen- the age you had to be if you wanted to join the Magisterium's forces- was millions of years away. My mother and father were firmly against the idea of me going off to kill people, because they were truly pious people, and if they hadn't met each other, they would have gone on to become a nun and a priest. They tried to raise me as a spiritual child, but the Masses we would attend daily were so boring that I would fall asleep, and when I was allowed to go out and play, I would play War with my fellow urchins. _

_The only things that I can remember from attending Mass was that the Authority could be very vengeful, and that he had lots of wars fought in his name. But those two images- an angry Authority in the heavens and a bloody battlefield where the soldiers were martyrs- they stayed with me throughout my childhood, and will likely stay with me for the rest of my life, even though it's likely to only last a few minutes longer. _

_I can't die yet- I need to tell you of my past, don't leave just yet- oh please, don't go. You'll stay? Thank you, I shan't take much more of your time. My childhood was the trigger for all of this, my medals there on my chest, the death of my dearest love, and my blood and guts spilled all over the grass here._

"C'mon, Arrio! Let's play Commander Aloysius an' Lord Moned!" called my friend Delwin. I was halfway out my window, and knew that any moment Mother could come barging in, ordering me to get inside, telling me that I couldn't go outside except for Masses for a month. But that didn't stop me. Not even my dæmon Natalya could stop me.

"I'll be out in a minute, Delwin!" I shouted back. Natalya shifted from the shape of a nervous meerkat to the form of a sleek falcon as I swiftly threw my rope of knotted sheets out my window. A quick shimmy down this creation allowed me to reach the rain gutter, and Natalya flew the sheet-rope back into my room. Then I climbed the rest of the way to the ground and caught the long stick Delwin had thrown to me.

"I wanna be Commander Aloysius this time, Arrio, 'cause last time you got to be him," Delwin proclaimed, brandishing his stick.

"Sure, Winnie!" I said, calling him his sister's name.

"Don'tchoo be callin' me that!" he shouted. I just laughed at him. "Fine then, we'll fight an' I'll win an' be Commander Aloysius!"

We whacked at each other with the sticks, landing hits, raising bruises, and filling the air with the sound of sticks cracking against each other. We would have continued for the rest of the day, but my mother discovered my escape and waved in our direction. "Arrio, young man, get in here right now, before I decide to come down there after you!"

I made a face, rolling my eyes, letting Delwin see, but not my mother before dropping the stick and running inside. "Coming, Mother!" I called.

"We need to go, Arrio," she said, magically at the foot of the staircase. "Your father and I are ready to go, and you're out playing barbarians with that no-good Delwin. Go fill your leather rucksack with clothes, grab a few books- no, I want you to bring all your schoolbooks as well as some of your favorite story books- and run out to the boat, where your father's waiting. Hurry now, boy, we need to go." I tried to pause and question her further about our sudden, unannounced impending departure, but she whisked me up the stairs, and I quickly did as she had ordered.

I somehow managed to get my bags down the stairs, and Mother helped me carry them out to the boat. Father quickly started the engine, and the smell of burning fumes filled the air. As we sped off down the riverside, I heard a whistling sound and whirled around in time to see a gyropter drop a large bomb onto the suburbs of the neighborhood where we lived.

"Mother, what's happening?" I asked, turning to look at her. But her eyes were filled with tears, and her body wracked with sobs. Then I looked at Father, who was standing at the controls, his shoulders shaking; his gaze was fixed on the great river ahead of us. "Father?" I asked, my voice choked with tears, for I felt the weight of a sudden sadness settle on my shoulders, as if I could never be happy again.

"Keep your head down, Arrio," he ordered. "The British Rebellion is trying to make war the Church of England. Don't worry, the Magisterium soldiers will win, and we will be able to move to London."

And thus was my first brush with the idea that the Magisterium's soldiers were invincible and mighty, always saving the country from ungrateful rebels. And when the British Rebellion was crushed, I informed my parents proudly that I wanted to serve the Church. Their mouths made round O's of surprise, and I still believe that they thought that I had decided to become a priest. I think they would have preferred it to what I announced next: "I want to become a Magisterium soldier!"

My parents sighed, and they looked at each other, disappointed. "That's a violent life, Arrio," my father said gently. "You kill people, and those who you kill may have powerful friends that will kill you."

"I don't care if they try to kill me," I proclaimed. "I'll kill them first."

"Arrio!" my mother cried, distressed. Her squirrel dæmon chittered angrily at Natalya, and Mother looked at me with disapproval in her eyes. "You go to your room this instant, young man. I don't want to hear another word about these violent desires!"

I ran out of the room, Natalya close on my heels. My bed had never looked safer. "Natalya, how old d'ya think we have to be to join the Magisterium's soldiers?" I asked rebelliously, fuming after Mother's scolding.

"Nineteen," Natalya replied, boar-shaped. "But I betcha that if you grow a beard when you're seventeen you'll be able to get in."

"I'm gonna run away, 'Talya. Gonna run away and be a soldier."

"And I'll be with you, and we'll be the bravest war hero commander and dæmon in the whole wide world," she said, supporting me, as I knew she would.

I sighed, and then climbed upon my desk. Knocking aside the wood ceiling panel in my way, I stuck my hand up and scrabbled around until my fingers found what they were looking for- a copy of _Commander Aloysius's Life_, written by Commander Aloysius himself. I reverently placed it on the desk and tried to peer into the dark space where it had been hidden. Natalya helpfully switched into the form of a small albatross, and managed to lift me the rest of the way up. I looked around, and the light pouring through the cracks and spaces in the paneling caught against something dark and metallic.

I grabbed it and pulled it closer to me. "Natalya…" I whispered shakily. "Is this what I think it is?"

She lowered me to the desk and shifted into the form of a curious marmoset. "My God, Arrio. Where'd you get that?"

"It was in the ceiling. How'd'ya think it got there?" I asked, climbing into the chair, laying the discovery carefully on the desk next to the book.

"I dunno. Lock the door, quick, so your parents won't see you with it," Natalya said. "Is it real?"

"I think so," I replied before locking the door.

It was a pistol. A ten-chambered pistol, a type made only for the rebels, and the Magisterium destroyed every single one that it could find. They were illegal for some reason, and I had a feeling that our new home once was something more than just a home. I lifted it, and found it both heavy and light at the same time. Spinning the chambers, I managed to trigger the spring that allowed you to add ammo into them. There were ten bullets already in there, with ten more back-up bullets loaded in behind them.

"Natalya!" I said. "Shift into something small and good with dark spaces and look for more stuff up there!"

She nodded, and I stood on the desk once more, carefully avoiding the book and pistol, in order to give Natalya more room to move around without stretching our bond. As I waited impatiently for her to return, I eyed the door warily. Finally Natalya returned, and produced her discoveries- packs and packs of bullets for the pistol as well as a holster and a cleaning kit.

I took them all from her quite greedily, and laid them out on the desk once I had clambered back to the floor. "How do you think they got there?" I asked Natalya.

"I dunno. Some Rebels prolly used this house as a hideout back during the Great British Rebellion," she said, reiterating her earlier reply as well as voicing the idea I had thought of earlier.

"Maybe they'll come back for them!" I cried excitedly.

"We shan't be able to give this stuff back to whoever comes looking for it, 'cause they'd have to be Rebels to know about this stash," she replied.

And that's when I heard the footsteps on the long staircase to the upper floor, and I knew exactly where those footsteps were coming from. Natalya helped me quickly replace the ceiling panel that I had dislodged, and I remembered just as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs that my desk was a roll top desk. Swiftly, I pulled the top down, leapt upon my bed, grabbed my Bible and opened it up at random. I had opened it up to the Book of Revelation and just managed to digest where I was when my father (I had learned to tell who was coming up the stairs by the way the stairs creaked under the weight of whichever parent that was coming.) knocked upon my door.

"Arrio?" he said. "Can you come open the door for me?"

I mentally cursed myself for forgetting to unlock the door, and Natalya switched into her most innocent and expressionless form- a vibrant dragonfly as I opened it. "Yes, Father?" I asked.

"Why was your door locked?" he asked me, stepping into the room.

"I wanted to read my Bible without being disturbed, sir. I figured that maybe Mother would like it if I managed to memorize some new passages," I lied smoothly.

"What passages did you manage to memorize?" he asked, trying to see if I was telling the truth.

"Revelations chapter nine. Would you like me to recite anything from it for you?"

"Verse twenty two, if you please, " Father requested.

"But Father," I said. "There is no verse twenty two of Revelations chapter nine."

Father grinned. "I was just testing you, son. I wanted to make sure that you weren't lying to me. Why don't you recite verse seventeen?"

I nodded, and without hesitating began, "'And this was how I saw the horses in my vision: the riders wore breastplates the color of fire and of sapphire and of sulfur; the heads of the horses were like lions' heads, and fire and smoke and sulfur coming out of their mouths.'"

Father smiled slightly, pleased. "Very good, Arrio. I shall tell your mother to make chicken-kettle-pie for supper. She'll be pleased to hear that you've added to your studies." He left, taking care to shut the door quietly, and I flung myself across my bed.

"I thought we were dead," Natalya said. "How did you remember all that?"

"Simple," I said. "I memorized it back during the Rebellion, hoping that the Magisterium could fulfill the prophecies. Mother never knew, because she hates the Book of Revelation, because it is so depressing and violent."

I walked over to my roll-top desk as Natalya flicked into the form of a lemur, and I pushed the top out of my way. "Do you know if there are any loose floorboards?" I asked her.

"I checked a long time ago. There aren't, but there's a huge space inside the headboard of the bed," she replied. "Large enough for all this stuff we've found." She gently pried open the headboard and I saw that there was a large space heavily insulated, large enough for our booty indeed. Quickly, we managed to place all our discoveries inside, and a quick trip to the pile of moth-eaten blankets provided a helpful cover upon which I placed the book on Commander Aloysius and other books that I read for pleasure.

After I had replaced the panel hiding my treasure trove, Natalya and I went over to the window. I could see the local children out at play, and I wanted to join them. "Why don't we go out and play?" I asked Natalya. She grinned, and we ran downstairs, and a quick word to my mother freed us to go out and play.

I hope you've liked the story so far- no, the next chapter isn't so boring, and Arrio is several years older in it, so you won't have the cute little boy that you had in this chapter. I made this chapter a bit longer than I have made the chapters in my other story, but I think this might be the shortest one in this story… mwahaha- you'll suffer from my long chapters. Review, please. I think I will require at least one review a chapter to keep it going, I just wanna hear what you guys think… I really feel unloved at the moment, and reviews would make me happy! (you must make me happy, or else I will be sad oO)


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Glad you liked the first chapter enough to continue on to read this one! Thanks to those that reviewed, you made me feel appreciated! Here's chapter two! Expect a flight from home! Be prepared for life on the streets! Look out for good stuff like that! I feel like using exclamation marks now! Also, my most sincere apologies for not posting this chapter sooner- I had it all written out and I decided that it didn't fit the plot line, and so I've just managed to get this rewritten. Again, my deepest apologies. I hope it w as worth the wait!

Part Two 

_So you see, that's how I came by that gun over there. Now I'm just bleeding my heart out, and –Oh, God, it hurts so much- I haven't told you everything. Please, may I have a sip from your canteen? Thank you. Ah, that was refreshing. Nothing like a little clean water to clear the mind. _

_At the end of the British Rebellion, we moved to Oxford, because mother was developed some sort of illness in her lungs, and her doctor told us that London's air wouldn't be good for her. I dunno why I didn't tell you that earlier, but…_

_Remember how I told you that I hid the gun? I kept it there for five years, until I was seventeen. Natalya had settled into the form of a peregrine falcon, and I was lucky- I was able to grow a full beard by then, but I kept my face clean-shaven until the time came for me to join the Magisterium's soldiers…_

I'd had my clean-shaven face for over a year, but it was time to grow the beard that would allow me to become a soldier of the Magisterium. I had every reason to leave now- Mother had died when I was fourteen, and Father went out into the red-light district nightly, sometimes leaving the house for days.

Natalya and I had prepared to leave the second time Father came home smelling of cheap perfume and sweat. From then on, we began avoiding going out in public, and when we did, we made ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. My ten-chambered pistol, its bullets, cleaning kit, and holster resided safe inside the headboard compartment, and my autobiography of Commander Aloysius I read openly without fear of being caught because no one cared anymore.

I was lying on my stomach on my bed, reading the autobiography and Natalya perched on one of the posts when she spoke. "Why don't we leave now?" she asked me, her golden eyes giving me a piercing stare.

"Now?" I replied, surprised that she had been the one to ask.

"Why not?" she said. "Father's just gone out, and he won't be back tonight."

"Where will we stay?" I demanded. "I look seventeen without my beard, and it takes a while for it to grow out."

"We can stay at a charity house," she replied.

"But, Natalya, I think it'll take two weeks for me to grow the beard," I protested, both willing and unwilling to leave.

"We could leave today and worry about what to do from there."

I had no qualms about abandoning Father. He didn't care about what I did anymore. I just wasn't quite sure that I'd be brave enough to lie to the pastor that interviewed the incoming soldiers. Despite my doubts, I knew my answer. It was time to fulfill my dream.

"We'll go," I said, and decisively closed my book. Swiftly, I opened my headboard and pulled out the pistol and the supplies for it. Natalya flew to the floor and pulled out my rucksack, which contained the clothes, I would wear when I applied to be enlisted, soap a rag, and a spare outfit for me to wear on the streets. I wrapped the pistol in a spare cloth from our rag pile and stuffed it under the clothes in the rucksack.

I slipped on a pair of boots and shouldered the rucksack. Natalya flew to my shoulder and I walked out the door, not even looking over my shoulder to survey the room I had lived in fro quite some time. Walking down the stairs, I thought about leaving a note for Father, but since I hadn't talked to him in a week, I figured that he wouldn't miss me.

Stepping out into the sun was like entering a new world. Natalya launched herself from my shoulder and wheeled around, also invigorated by this new sense of freedom. We wandered about for a while, and then I stopped at the bank, where I withdrew all the money in my savings account. From there, I wandered to a local charity house, but we were turned away because I wasn't as needy looking as the other people that wanted to stay there.

We wandered throughout the streets until dusk fell, and I truly realized how I was going to be living for a while. We went to the Botanic Garden, and Natalya spotted a bench that we could sleep on, but a little girl and her dæmon were playing hide and seek around it. I could hear their delighted laughter as they ran around and around the bench, the girl's dæmon flicking from different shapes in order to stay out of its human's grasp. Finally her dæmon took note of the deepening night, and they headed out of the park, and as far as I could tell, they were heading to Jordan College.

Natalya flew over to the bench, and she perched upon a low hanging branch of the tree that overhung the bench. I stretched out, took a sip from the canteen I had bought earlier during my wanderings, and pillowed my head upon my rucksack. Praising the Authority that the weather was good, I quickly fell asleep.

Drenching rain awoke me, and I found myself soaked to the bone. It was almost dawn, for the man who put out the streetlights was doing his job. Natalya shook her feathers and took to the air, looking around for a drier spot where we could stay. I grabbed my rucksack, for once appreciating the fact that it was made of canvas, and Natalya gave up her search. We wandered out of the Garden and took to the streets.

Street vendors were just setting up their carts, and those who slept in doorways and alleys were rousing. I had never seen the city at this hour before, and Natalya had to tell me to stop gawking at our surroundings as if I was a tourist. "Stop staring, Arrio!" she whispered fiercely as one of her swoops took her close to my ear.

I regained control over my facial expressions, and as we passed a man selling meat pies, I paused and bought a large one that would last me throughout the rest of the day. Nibbling at the pie, I hoped that it wouldn't be my only fare until the time when I could join the Magisterium Army.

Somehow I managed to find a charity house that took pity on me, and promised to give me free boarding and food for three days. The room I was allotted had a bare anbaric lamp, a bed with a mattress like mortar, and a large wooden crate for my belongings. The walls weren't painted, and I knew that it was extremely likely that the large cockroaches I spotted in the dark corners of the room were probably not the only insectile inhabitants of my new home.

The door didn't possess a lock, so I didn't dare to leave my precious rucksack behind as I left the room. I closed the door softly, and walked into a kitchen where some sort of stew was being dished out. I grabbed a bowl of it and then sat on a patch of wooden floor that wasn't as dirty as the rest of the available areas.

My refined tastes that had been developed from the fine foods that were always available within my former home. I would have spat out the mouthful of stew upon the floor if Natalya hadn't reminded me that it was all I was going to eat unless I wanted to go out and buy some other food that would doubtlessly taste better, but it would also drain my pockets within three days. I risked another mouthful of the stew with gristly meat, stale bread chunks, and hard vegetables, and found that it did indeed satisfy my stomach's cravings. However, there was a crunchy point during that mouthful in which the thought occurred to me that those large cockroaches that I had seen in my room were most likely in every other corner of the building.

When my bowl of stew was finished, I retreated once more to my new room and collapsed on the filthy mattress, trying to gain any semblance of sleep that I could. I managed to gain perhaps a split second of sleep before I decided that my refined tastes concerning places to sleep should be satisfied. With very little regret, I abandoned the shelter and took to the streets once more.

The day was uneventful, and the sun scorched my skin in some places, but I did manage to meet a new person, who taught me to pick people's pockets. "Now, see that fat rich guy over there with the sleek black rat dæmon?" my new acquaintance, Mysti the pickpocket, said. I nodded. "Can you see his money bag?"

Natalya flew up in the air to get a better view at my target, and returned to my shoulder. "It's hanging off his belt. It'd be easy for you to grab." The man shifted, and his moneybag came into full view.

"Hey, Mysti, wouldn't it be better for me to practice on you or something first?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't. You gotta learn the street-ways, Arrio." I sighed, and her dæmon, a muddy lynx, laughed at my fear of being caught. And then Mysti shoved me into the throngs of people going about their business. Natalya took to the air with a screech, drawing curious looks from passerby and my target, as well as from their dæmons. The fat man went back to his business, and Natalya made a point to huddle close to me once she landed on my shoulder. Quickly, I broke out into a run, as if I had urgent business, forcing Natalya to take to the air again, and aimed for a point that would force me to bump into the fat man.

The collision sent us both to the ground, his dæmon squealing indignantly. As the man struggled to get to his feet, I took the chance to lighten his coin-pouch slightly before getting to my own feet. I acted dazed, as if I had hit my head, and shook it to clear my faked dizziness. "I'm so sorry, sir," I said, trying to help the man to his feet. "I wasn't looking where I was going. Please, accept my most sincere apologies."

The fat man brushed off his clothes, which were damp from the morning's rain, and he glared at me. "You owe me a new set of clothes," he declared haughtily. I caught a glimpse of a Magisterium ring upon the ring finger of his left hand, with a marriage band upon the middle finger of the same hand. From his girth, I guessed that he was a high-to-do politician, and decided to try and lie my way out of the situation.

"My apologies, sir," I said once more. "I've just heard that my mother's just gone into labor early- I must get there to find out if she's had the baby yet."

The man's beady eyes looked at me more intently. "Premature labor?" he queried, and my nod confirmed it. Natalya was subjected to the same scrutiny from the rat dæmon, and she tried to appear as humble and as anxious as possible. "I'll let you go this time, young man. I shall pray for both your mother and the baby." I stared at him, not believing my good fortune, and Natalya was hard pressed not to show her elation. "What are you standing around for? Go to your mother, and run!"

I took off in the direction I had been aiming for, and then quickly doubled back through the crowd to where Mysti was waiting. I was able to get a good look at her- not the filthy face with dark brown eyes and thin lips ringed with matted brown hair, but her clothes and build in general. Mysti was wearing a sailor's canvas trousers and shirt, and I hesitated to think where she had gotten them. She wasn't wearing shoes, giving me a view of her bare dark –skinned feet. I realized that she must have been a bastard child of one of the dark-skinned beauties that could be found in the red-light district, but the realization didn't bother me.

"How much did you manage to nick?" Mysti demanded, her dæmon peering out intently at me.

I carefully poured the coins I had stolen into my palms. "It looks like five crowns," I announced.

Mysti's eyes lit up and then she grinned. "You keep two. I get the other three."

I was astounded at her presumptuous manner. "I only get two? I stole them." Natalya glared down at Mysti's dæmon as I spoke. His fur fluffed up, and he started growling.

"Down, Kyriako," Mysti ordered sternly before meeting my eyes once more. "But you have money that you brought with you, and you've got nice clothes. Me'n Kyriako gotta go scrape the cobblestones to find a mere five-pence." I honestly could not picture her doing so, for I knew that her abilities as a street rat had most definitely become more advanced by now. Her eyes grew hard, and I decided that maybe it was a good idea to give her the three crowns after all.

Once I had deposited them upon her outstretched palm, I carefully placed the remainder of my theft into my coin purse and then tucked it back into my shirt. "How long do I have to wait before I can steal some more money?" I asked Mysti as Natalya softly creeled once with suppressed anger.

She nodded in the direction of the fat man. "You have until he cries thief," she replied. I glanced at her incredulously. "Go!" Mysti cried, shoving me back into the crowd. Night had quickly begun to fall, and I had no trouble snatching the coin-purse of a well-dressed lady that was scolding her son for doing something unreasonable. As the anbaric street-lamps came on, I ducked into an alley and pocketed a quarter of the moneybag's contents. Then I returned to Mysti.

"What took you?" she demanded as I revealed the money purse.

I grinned. "The lady was scolding her son, and I had to wait a moment for her to give me a clear shot at the bag." Mysti's grubby fingers pursed through the moneybag and then handed me a third of its contents. She carefully tucked the nice bag into her belt, and then led the way further into the alley as cries of "Thief! Thief!" rang out.

"Meet me three alleys down tomorrow morning at sunrise, alright?" Mysti asked.

I nodded. "Sure. You have a place to stay?"

Mysti laughed. "Of course, My den's safe, warm, and dry. That's all that matters." Then she disappeared into the shadows.

"Where shall we stay tonight?" Natalya asked me as I stepped back out into the streets.

"I dunno," I replied, walking through the growing throngs of those that prowled the streets at night. "Perhaps there's a place we could stay."

"The charity house doesn't want us," she pointed out. "We can't stay in the Botanic Garden again. "

As we passed a cloth-shop, I realized that I could use another blanket. With Natalya perched tensely on my shoulder, I ducked into the shop. A stooped old woman with large spectacles and a small tabby cat for a dæmon appeared behind the counter. Slowly striding up to the counter, I managed to notice that all the quilts and blankets were finely woven, and would probably greatly deplete my coin purse .

"Can I help you, son?" she asked me, her cat dæmon meowing loudly.

"Yes," I replied. "Do you happen to have a nice warm blanket?"

She eyed me critically. "I doubt you could pay for any of my wares, but I do happen to possess several blankets that fit your description."

I threw my money pouch onto the counter, the coins chinking loudly. "I'm sure that I could afford any of the wares you have to offer." Her eyes widen, and she disappeared quickly to return with several finely woven blankets that looked like they could keep me warm with ease. I fingered the material of each, and then examined their sizes. After a swift round of bargaining, I managed to spend the two crowns I had first stolen and buy the cheapest but warmest blanket of the lot.

As I was about to leave the store, the woman called me back over. "Young man! Come here." Not suspecting why, I obediently followed her orders. She examined me closely, "You're young Arrio Reggij, aren't you." Horrified that I had been recognized, I took a step backwards, and Natalya shifted uneasily on my shoulder. Oblivious to my reaction, the old woman continued. "Your mother was my good friend before she died." She shook her head sadly. "Such a shame…" Her dæmon whispered something into her ear, and she looked at me sharply again. "You do know that your father has the city watch out looking for you, don't you? He claims you ran away from home."

I couldn't believe it. I had already been discovered, and my future beard was just a collection of miniscule whiskers- a far cry from what I needed it to be. As the woman continued rambling on, I dashed out of the store, and Natalya took wing, flying above me, searching for any persons that might be following me. As I fled past the alley where Mysti had instructed me in the art of pick pocketing, I caught the eye of some members of the night watch.

"Hey, you, stop!" the more burly of the three watch shouted in my wake. I picked up speed ran headlong into the night streets of Oxford.

As always, I request that you review, and tell me what you think of the story so far. Once more I apologize for the long wait, and am pleased to inform you that summer break has officially started, so I can begin posting more frequently. Review!


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